Paint Me an Octave Higher
by xMilaax
Summary: Falling for an older woman she met while working on a coffee shop wasn't in Rachel Berry's plan. Being caught in a whirl of drama with said woman neither. But with the addition of art, Broadway and crazy friends, she could just manage to make a unique love history out of it.
1. May I take your order?

Rachel sighed loudly while settling the coffee machine. It was almost a quarter past five in the afternoon, what meant almost fifteen minutes of Cassidy's lateness. Every day was the same thing. If the other girl wasn't her friend, she would've lost her temper by now. But, even though she complained a lot, her coworker was always late and always made Rachel herself late for her own deserved break.

The bell by the door of the old cafeteria rang, and the brunette shot a hopeful glance at the door, but the woman who just walked in most definitely was _not _her fussy ginger colleague.

A blonde and classy woman took a step in and started to size the place up. Rachel could swear that she twisted her nose to the grimy wallpaper and to the worn puffs in the corner. So, with the chin held high and a decided posture, the woman walked directly towards one of the tables in the bottom of the saloon. By the way the blonde x-rayed the chair with such caution, Rachel almost expected her to take a handkerchief from her hand purse and effectively clean the furniture before sitting. The brunette blinked two times and the other woman finally sat down. That is, after she'd made an expression of discontentment.

Rachel sighed for the second time. The woman just looked like one of those costumers that treated poorly the staff. And she had already had her dose of rudeness for the day, thanks to the fat guy that always barks that the coffee is cold, even though it never is. Breathing deeply, she managed to put a bright smile in her face, and walked towards the blonde.

"Hello. My name is Rachel Berry. May I take your order?" She took a pen and a tiny notebook from the pocket of her apron, eyeing the costumer anxiously.

The blonde, who hadn't even undressed her pretty white coat, clearly didn't spend the time of day looking at Rachel. Her long, elegant fingers lingered to the plasticized menu, and the brunette couldn't help but notice the huge golden ring, with this… _enormous shiny rock_ in her left ring finger.

"Black coffee. Two sugar lumps." She ordered, not bothering to take the card after all.

Rachel nodded, although the other hadn't taken more than a glance towards her. She really was prepared to write line after line of specifications regarding that woman's coffee, but for that to happen she would have to _touch_ the plastic apparently too disgusting of the card.

After serving the coffee to the woman – who, that must be said, didn't also bother to thank her – Rachel took her place behind the counter, propping in her elbows and bending forward. She gazed the client, not caring much about being subtle. Her blonde hair was tied in a tight bun, leaving the delicate curve of the neck and the small pearl earrings exposed. True pearls, Rachel could bet. She didn't seem like she was older than thirty. Perhaps she was... Women like her were always older than they seemed.

"Weird, huh?" Arthur, the cashier, remarked.

Rachel catch on immediately what he meant. It was quite unusual someone like the blonde go to the old cafeteria. Not with a much fancier multinational competitor one block away.

"Did you notice how she seems to fear to catch an STD just by sitting here?"

Rachel muffled a giggle.

"Arthur, you're incorrigible."

The man shrugged and smiled.

A little while later, the bell rang again and a tall man with this mohawk smacked the door open, leaving a, once again, disappointed Rachel. She really thought this time was Cassidy.

The man sat in the same table that the blonde was sitting. They got close right away to talk. Rachel narrowed her eyes. Would this man be the blonde's lover? Because he most certainly wasn't her husband. A woman like her... all classy and elegant, wouldn't marry a guy with a leather jacked, combat boots and a freaking mohawk.

Feeling a slight wave of curiosity, she walked towards the table. She needed, of course, to take the new costumer's order. While Rachel made her way, the man stopped what he was saying and ogled her from head to toe.

"Excuse me sir, would you like to order...?" She asked embarrassed.

"One beer, sugar." The men gave her a nasty smile.

The brunette noticed the woman sneering at his answer.

Rachel nodded and went to get the beer. So he_ really_ should be the blonde's lover. This was the only logic explanation. They talked way too close, they met in a place like this… What she didn't comprehend was… why such a distinguished woman would choose a man like him? That is, based on a principle that she wanted to cheat on her husband. Alright, the bad boy attitude could be considered by one as appealing, but… well, they just didn't seem to fit.

When a new costumer walked in, the brunette forgot her speculations. The blonde's choice of a lover was not, by any means, her business… and, well, it was not as if Rachel had been faithful during all her relationships.

Fifteen minutes later, she saw the woman leave a bank note on the table and make a bee line towards the door. A moment later the man also got out of the cafeteria. She went to the table and took the ten dollar bill. _Well, at least she tipped._

Then Cassidy finally decided to show up.

"Cassidy. Five forty! My break was supposed to end now! If the manager comes, he'll think _I_ am not been punctual with my duties here and…"

"Sorry… so sorry, Rach! Bob came to see me today. I promise it won't happen again." Cassidy made her peculiar _dog-kicked-in-the-rain_ face.

Rachel sighed.

"Ok. But just because you two made up. Honestly, I rather see you being late every day than see you crying in the corners every time someone asks for coffee without sugar. Of course, none of the circumstances are truly healthy, and you know, Cassy, although I am an enthusiastic adept of herbal medicine, those homeopathic drops of yours do not work on emotional stress situations…"

Cassidy laughed and grabbed her apron behind the counter.

"Dear, why don't you take an extra half hour of break? Totally fair. No, forget it. Just take the rest of the day off. If Steve, that fuckin' moron, comes, I'll cover for you. I'll tell him that you thought you got an infection on your vocal cords or whatever…" The ginger waved her hand.

Rachel got scandalized by the offer.

"No, no, no! Do not even _suggest _something like that! You know I can't get an infection on my…"

"Rachel! Go away. If he shows up I'll handle it. Don't worry. I recall you telling me all about that vocal technique test of yours. Just go home and study a bit, ok?" Cassidy started pushing the brunette towards the door.

"Alright, alright!" Rachel giggled. "Let me just get my purse..."

* * *

When she arrived home early, she didn't remember intending to arrive at a battlefield. But, of course, with Santana and Kurt alone, battlefield it was.

Her two roomies (hehehe, isn't she cute or what?!) were staring at each other, arms crossed across the chests, death glares in place.

"Santana! The cucumber moisturizing cream that was on the fridge was _mine_. And for my face. _Not_ for your sandwich!"

"It was on the fridge! Only food gets to be on the fridge!" The latina repeated, rolling her eyes. "And please, Sprinkles, that was hardly a moisturizing cream. All you did is mix cucumbers with some rabbit food shit and put it in the blender!"

Kurt gasped dramatically.

"You did _not _just insult my beauty care routine! The recipe of the cream worth gold, you latina devil, gold!"

"Yeah, yeah. So said my tuna sandwich."

And that was the moment Rachel thought it was better to interfere.

"Fellow roomies! Isn't it great that I'm home early? I say we go to the park and enjoy this roommates bounding time. Or perhaps a musical would be fit?"

So, when the said death glares were aimed towards her, Rachel changed her mind about interfering.

_And that's what I get for being such a concerned person._

Kurt was the first to move, trotting back to his room, mumbling "latina bitch" under his breath. Santana rolled her eyes again and made her way out of the apartment without another word.

_So much for roommates bounding time. _

Rachel sighed and went to her own room. She did have a test to study for, after all.

* * *

And all the effort really paid off. Rachel _owned_ her test. Not that she expected any less, though.

"Rach! Wait up!"

She turned her head to see Beatrice jogging towards her.

"Hey you." She smiled a little when the girl reached her.

"So… I was wondering…" She rubbed the back of her neck. "There's this karaoke thing in a bar I found out not far from here. Friday. Not many NYADA students go there, but there's a crowd from NYU. I guess it will be nice, right?! A change of scenery."

"I see." Her smile grew bigger. "Yes, sure. Sounds like fun. You know I never refuse…"

"A performance." She completed, smiling right back at her, eyes shining in _fondness. _"Yeah, I know. And you, Miss Berry, knows that I don't refuse either."

"Yes, I do." Rachel hesitated for a moment. "I should go, or else I'll be late for work."

"Of course. See you Friday?"

"You just may."

So, by the time she arrived at the cafeteria, she positively did _not_ hear the first thing Cassidy was saying to her. Her mind was far, far away.

Beatrice was this French girl, with that accent, short straight hair, white porcelain skin, remarkable eyes and all of those things that characterize a French woman. She even wears a beret from time to time. Seriously.

About four months ago, they met in that bar Brody introduced her when she first came to NY. Saying the French girl liked her immediately was an understatement. It was just the perfect timing. Rachel was overly depressed about the break up with Brody, plus, she had just dumped Finn… And, well…

Saying Rachel never liked to be alone was another understatement.

Really, she never gave much thought about girls before. At least not that she was aware of. She was just too deep down in her "leading-men-bubble". Alright, that may or may not had been an experience in the area, but Rachel _– with a lot of effort, thank you very much_ – tried to not make a big deal out of that. For her sexuality was fluid. Natural.

So, when Beatrice put her moves on Rachel, Santana pulled the brunette to the side and whispered: _Seriously Berry, if you do not tap that, I will._

Then, Rachel – how Santana so crudely described – tapped that.

It was not that she didn't enjoy. She really did. But, as she didn't like to be alone, she also didn't appreciate much sexual intercourse without a minimum of intimacy. So it was just that time.

Perhaps just that time and that other time.

Or maybe about six times.

_Who was counting anyway?!_

Rachel eventually concluded, in a very mature and serene way, obviously, that she might just be more into girls than she first imagined.

Cassidy let out a loud groan, breaking Rachel's train of thought.

"Could you take that, please?" She pointed a table out with her chin. "She looks exactly like the kind of bitch I usually slap."

Rachel raised her head to find the same blonde from the other day, sitting at the same table. Before she could reply, however, the man with the mohawk walked in.

"There's no problem."

Black coffee, two sugar lumps. And a beer. Again she got nothing but indifference from the woman and a dirty look from the man.

When she placed the beverages in the table, she took her sweet time behind the counter observing the odd couple. Today the blonde hair of the woman was loose, with those beautiful and perfect curls molding her face.

"Rachel, what's wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry?" She replied absently-minded.

The ginger snapped her fingers in front of Rachel's face.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

"What- Cassidy…"

"No. Don't. You're so weird today. You did not hear a thing I'm saying to you. And do you know how I know that? I just told you I killed a baby pig with my bare hands, and what you did? _That's right_. Nothing."

That caught Rachel's attention.

"Did you kill a baby pig with your bare hands?" Rachel all but yelled in shock.

"Of course not. Now, can you hear me?"

The brunette shook her head, still a little shocked, mind you, and finally paid attention to whatever Cassidy was saying.

* * *

That night, when Kurt and Rachel were comfortably sitting on the couch, boxes of Thai food in hands and eyes firmly set on some lame horror movie at TNT, the front door was opened loudly.

Rachel jumped in place, and Kurt let out a really, _really_ sharp shriek.

Santana arched an eyebrow.

"Losers." She breathed out.

The latina went towards them and slammed a pot in the coffee table.

"Here, Tinker Bell, a _real _moisturizing cream. And a_ good_ one, too. My friend Clara said it was the best, and I gotta say, that girl knows _everything_ about facial stuff." She shot a dirty smirk and Kurt made a disgusted face, while Rachel started to giggle madly.

"Thank you._ I guess_." The boy replied hesitantly, but lighted up a small smile.

"Now, where am I supposed to sit, bitches?" She bluntly dug herself between Kurt and Rachel, grabbing a box of food.

"'Excuse me' usually works, Santana." Rachel rambled.

"Shut it, Berry."

"Is that the shit you two pussies were afraid of?" Santana said after ten minutes, but Rachel _so_ could see the chills in her arms.

"Are you cold, Santana? Should I get you a blanket?" Apparently so did Kurt.

"Shut it, Hummel."

Rachel smiled. Yes, it was exactly as they say… There's no place like home.

* * *

So guys, hello. Haha.

As some of you may have noticed, I'm not a native english speaker... This fanfiction was originally written in portuguese, and I must say, writing this in English have been _hard_. So, if you find any atrocious mistake regarding my grammar or anything, please, be a dear and point it out for me. I'll take no offence, and really, I'll be grateful. I know how it is to read something poorly written, and it's not a piece of cake.

ANYWAY, I really think the plot deserves a shot, and also think this chapter deserves a review. HAHAHA.

No, seriously.

So, stick with me and let me know what you thought of this :)


	2. I'm just kidding

"Your boyfriend does not come today?" Rachel asked without thinking.

The woman turned her face and looked at Rachel like it was the first time she was ever seeing her. Hazel eyes sized her up head to toe, raised eyebrow in place. The gaze stopped briefly on the tag with Rachel's name and firmed on her brown eyes. The brunette needed to refrain herself from taking a step backwards. The strength of the woman's stare was huge, but Rachel refused to be intimidated.

"Rachel Berry." She said, her eyebrow still raised. A disdainful giggle left her lips.

"I'm sorry. Am I missing something here? Is my name funny to you?" Rachel questioned, almost offended.

The blonde gave her a cold smile.

"Oh, no… What is funny…" She made a little pause, her voice almost a purr. "Is your idea that the man who sits with me is my boyfriend. Honestly, Rachel Berry." The way the blonde said her name made her cheeks burn. Apparently it was not just by looking that the woman could make her feel smaller.

But, again, she refused to let that happen.

Rachel held the cap of the pen with her teeth in a thoughtful expression. Then she narrowed her eyes.

"I'll start over then. Your partner in crime does not come today?" She asked with a smile.

The costumer looked at her with an unreadable expression.

"I beg your pardon?"

Rachel shrugged.

"Well, Mrs…" She expected the other to say her name. When it was obvious that it wouldn't happen anytime soon, she cleared her throat and repeated. "Well, Mrs., you two come here almost every day. If he's not your boyfriend... He can only be your partner in crime. Admittedly, this place is perfect for plotting mischievous plans." Rachel smiled.

The woman seemed to deliberate it for a moment.

"You're right. Indeed, I guess I chose well." Then she gave Rachel this _really_ diabolic smile.

Rachel's paranoid nature picked this moment to come into surface.

_Oh my GOD! You should have kept your mouth shut! _

_I know! Not helping!_

_Oh my holy Streisand!_

_They're really partners in crime, and now they'll follow you to make sure that-_

Shemust have looked truly panicked, because one second after the blonde said:

"I'm just kidding, Rachel Berry. He's just my… _business _partner." The hazel eyes brightened slightly, as if amused by Rachel's apprehension.

Few moments later, Rachel got a beer for the man that, after all, did come.

"So, what do you think is her problem?" Cassidy asked her as soon as she took her place behind the counter.

"I don't understand."

"Maybe she married a creep rich mummy, who can't satisfy her in bed." The ginger said in a low conspiratorial tone.

"You know that a mummy, by definition, is a dead body enveloped in bandages that prevent its decomposition, right? She couldn't possibly have married a mummy, Cassy."

"Must you take everything literally, Rachel?" Cassidy replied, annoyed.

The brunette huffed.

"I don't know what her problem is, all right?! And more: I don't care! _Must you be so nosey_?" She mimicked her friend.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, sister." The ginger threw her arms in the air in surrender. "You spend an awful lot of time staring at her for someone who claims not caring, though." She added with a sardonic smile.

Rachel refrained herself from stomping her foot.

"I do _not._"

"Yes, you do."

"Do not!"

"_Do!_"

"I am not going to continue this immensely immature conversation with you." Rachel snorted.

"Yeah, go back at staring the blondie."

"I do not stare at her!"

Cassidy just laughed.

When the blonde left, Rachel quickly spotted her purse laid forgotten in the table. She didn't even try to find the woman. She would come to her.

* * *

Again, Rachel Berry was right.

Not even five minutes had gone by until the door was swung open and the woman made a straight line towards her.

"I imagined you would be back soon." Rachel gave her one of her famous _practiced-in-front-of-the-mirror_ smile, and kept talking before the other could say anything. "I have your purse, just a sec, please."

She walked to the corner where she kept all of her stuff and grabbed the blonde's purse.

"Here you go. Safe and sound. I can't say the same about your money, though." The brunette said deadly serious.

The woman's eyes popped out, and Rachel couldn't hold the laughter any longer.

"_I'm just kidding_." She said with a smirk.

The corners of the woman's mouth twisted, like she was trying to suppress a smile.

"Thank you, Rachel Berry." The blonde locked eyes with her, hazel orbs staring intently at her brown ones.

"You're welcome…" Rachel blushed, remembering that she did not know the other woman's name.

"Quinn." The woman offered, not caring to say her last name. She smiled discretely and turned around to leave the cafeteria without any other word. Purse firmly in hand.

"Quinn…" Rachel repeated, looking the sensual swing of the blonde's hips as she walked.

* * *

"Alright, divas. There goes your 'five more minutes'. I'm out!"

"Gosh, Santana, did you rush like this to get out of your mother's belly when she was six months pregnant too? That's the only explanation for your catastrophic impatience." Kurt replied unconcerned from the bathroom.

"Your rumbling took me another minute of life that I'll never get back, Sparkling Unicorn. You better be ready to go."

"Perfection takes time." Rachel sing-songed. "Also, Kurt appreciates the nickname, because everybody knows unicorns are awesome."

"Look at you, Berry, almost talking like a real person."

Rachel rolled her eyes as she left the bathroom.

"So, where's the perfection I waited so much for?"

Rachel felt Santana's gaze wander through her body and by the affectionate smile in her face she knew that, despite her mocking words, the latina appreciated her attire for the night.

"You look beautiful too, Santana."

The latina smiled genuinely before yelling again. "Come on, Tinker Bell! I ain't got all night. And just for the record, I _am_ one of those bitches who screamed 'I don't believe in fairies' in the movie theater!"

"I knew it." Kurt gasped theatrically and walked out of the bathroom.

"You ready?!" Santana all but ignored the boy's drama.

"Yes, mortal incarnation of the devil. We can go now."

"Fuckin' finally!"

* * *

Rachel kind of knew that Beatrice's invitation wasn't the plus one (or two, for that matter) type. But her friends had been _dying _to know the place as soon as she told them about it. She couldn't truly understand why, because she wasn't feeling this excited. Ok, so it was always a pleasure to know fellow singers and rock their world when she herself performed, but still… It for sure was just like the bar her colleagues from NYADA went, but filled with students from another university.

Needless to say, she was right. The wall was made of little red bricks, covered with musicals and bands posters. The low light and wood furniture conveyed a sense of intimacy to the place. Laughter and music echoed around the room, and Rachel felt Kurt cheerfully squirm by her side.

"This place is so _cool_!"

"Seriously, Kurt, it's just like-"

"Hey Rachel!" She heard a joyful voice calling her name. "You made it!"

"Beatrice. Good to see you. And of course I came, I said I would and I am not one who doesn't keep promises."

"You didn't promise." Beatrice smirked.

Rachel swallowed her reply about what it meant to her making commitments and hugged the French girl.

"Oh, hello there, Beatrice." Santana waved with too much enthusiasm to be genuine.

Clearly the Beatrice wasn't familiar enough with her friend to know better, but Rachel couldn't be fooled. She narrowed her eyes to Santana.

"Santana. Kurt." Beatrice politely acknowledged her friends presence before she turned to Rachel again. "I'm sitting with some guys from NYU, but I'll find you and your friends a new table so we can all sit together, all right?"

"Oh no, you don't have to abandon your friends for our sake." Rachel protested with a smile.

"Nonsense. Let's join tables, then." Beatrice replied.

"Sounds fine." Kurt offered. "Can I help?"

"Oh dear, there's no need." The French girl looked at him sympathetically. "I'll be right back." She touched Rachel's forearm briefly.

"I still don't have a formed opinion about her." Santana said. "She's hot. Gotta give her that." She added after a second.

Rachel couldn't help but agree, watching the girl as she made her way around and quickly got someone to move one table for her. She was tall, walked fluidly and was so elegant. Of course not as elegant as that blonde woman from the coffee shop, but that seemed to be impossible for other humans. Barbra Streisand and Audrey Hepburn not included, obviously.

"Well, I like her." Kurt supplied.

"That's because of the beret, isn't it?!" Santana rolled her eyes.

"Sweetie, you must have an exquisite taste in clothes to wear a beret and make it fashionable." He explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "But that's not the solely reason why I like her. She seems to really care about our diva here." He linked arms with Rachel.

The brunette shifted her body, not comfortable at all.

"What is it?!" Santana asked hastily.

Jesus_, this girl has hawk eyes._

_Rachel…_

Christ_, maybe she is the mortal incarnation of the devil after all…_

_Rachel… _

_What?_

_You're Jewish, stop saying the name of the savior you don't believe in in your head. _

_Right, sorry._

"It's nothing, Santana."

It was clear that her friend wanted to insist on the subject, but thankfully Beatrice was back.

"So, may I lead you to your table?" She smiled.

"Yes, please." Rachel delicately let go of Kurt's arm and took the hand Beatrice was offering.

Rachel was having a great time. And yes, it was a pleasant surprise to find out that Beatrice's friends from NYU did have a vast repertory, thus were able to catch up all references she liked to use in her sentences. And even better: laughed of all her (terrible, Santana said) jokes.

The latina was convinced that Beatrice probably intimidated each and every one of her friends to be nice to the brunette, but Rachel chose not to give that much of a thought. Santana obviously was envious from all the attention she was receiving.

Kurt seemed to have found a plausible option of a date (Rachel and Santana approved!) and so did Santana. Even though Santana finding someone was a current thing, the latina never passed the one night stand phase with anybody. Beatrice was sending shy smiles in her direction and just… _blushing_ all the time. She also chose to ignore this. So, in general, she really was having a great time.

Until Beatrice decided to stand up in the stage, clutching the microphone for dear life. She whispered something to the guy on the keyboard, and started to open and close her palms in the rhythm of the song. Her hips swaying and a little smirk on her face as she gained confidence.

Rachel recognized the song immediately. And, as Beatrice looked at her and prepared to sing, she felt like she had just swallowed tons of ice cubes. She couldn't explain that lump in her throat.

_"I'd rather be blue, thinking of you_

_I'd rather be blue over you_

_Than be happy with somebody else_

_I'm crazy about 'ya, without 'ya_

_For you I'm strong_

_I can't do without 'ya_

_Oucha-ma-goucha, don't stay too long!"_

Yes, she was being serenaded. Serenaded with a song by Barbra Streisand. From _Funny girl_! She should love it. She should be_ thrilled_, feeling like dancing in cotton candy clouds. But all she felt was that freaking lump in her throat.

Beatrice's voice was… amazing, really. And Rachel couldn't help but praise all the girl's techniques. Because she couldn't be touched by anything else. But, as the girl sang, she wished she could. The French girl was pretty much everything her other boyfriends were never able to be… Attentive, considerate, and so, so zealous for Rachel's feelings and, well… for Rachel in general.

She liked Beatrice, and she liked the sex. Couldn't deny that. But, for the first time in her life, she didn't fall in love with someone who sang a pretty song for her. She just… wasn't that high school girl anymore, living in a fairy tale land dream.

_"I'd rather be blue, thinking of you_

_I'd rather be blue over you_

_Than be happy with somebody else_

_Blue over you_

_I'd rather be blue over you_

_Than be Hap-hap-hap-hap-py_

_With somebody else"_

She clapped along with everybody else as Beatrice smiled brightly for the audience and jumped down from the stage, coming right towards her. She was starting to think what she was going to say. If she should "break up" (they didn't have anything concrete, alright?!) with her or not.

Then her cellphone started to ring.

She caught the cue quickly and, when she answered the phone, she just thought she was living an _enormous cosmological joke_.

She stood there in the bar, mouth agape, all eyes turned to her.

"I just… got a callback from _Funny Girl_." She whispered, a huge smile coloring her face.

* * *

Hey guys!

I was really amazed by all the kind reviews you wrote me!

Thank you all for following and ~especially hahaha~ for reviewing!

This is gonna be a long fic. The pace may seem slow at first, but things are going to ignite soon enough. And there's this saying: "the destination is not as important as the journey". HAHAHAHAHA. Boy, it really is as cheesy as it is in Portuguese J

But anyway! If you have any remark, criticism, or anything constructive you like to point it out, PLEASE BE MY GUEST. Do not hesitate giving me a piece of your mind. hahahaha

P.S: Thanks Bia for being my beta. You're doing an amazing job 3


	3. Go get her

Her head was pounding like bloody hell!

_Isn't it so fancier to curse with this British accent?_

_While cursing is never fancy, I can't help but agree._

_I thought so. _

_Ok, can you go back to the real problem here?_

_Your throat scratching from thirsty or… OH MY GOD!_

_There you go. _

Her head was aching, her vocal cords had been damaged and… oh yes, she had a naked body beside her.

_Rachel Berry, I thought you were going to end whatever it is that you and Beatrice had! _

_Don't you dare put the blame on me! I clearly recall you telling me "Yeah, I'm so happy, so giggly, why I don't have sex RIGHT NOW?" _I_ was the one thoughtful enough to wait until you got home!_

_Gosh, how could you sink so low?!_

_I don't know. I apologize, I'm lying. Of course I know. I sunk this low probably when you decided to sunk that fifth shot of tequila down your throat! _

_Oh, you didn't go there! I- It was not me, ok? Think, and think deeply about the friends you have before you use this accusatory tone on me!_

And that's how she remembered everything about last night.

After she got that _astonishing_ news, Santana, Kurt, Beatrice and everyone else demanded her to celebrate it. And celebrate it right away. They bought her shots, made toasts and everything. She loved it. At least until she started to feel a little light-headed. Then she cleverly thought it was time to stop.

Of course it was not that easy.

Santana and Kurt argued that it was the last careless night of her life. Because when fame hit her, she couldn't, obviously, allow herself to more irresponsible night-outs with her friends. Now that Rachel really took her time to think about it, it seemed such a weak argument that she didn't even know from where to start refuting it in her mind. But anyway, her tipsy state of mind apparently thought their point was just _genius_. So she drank. And, of course, acted like a _horny dog_ towards the first person she saw. And that was, guess who… Beatrice.

Yes… so much for actually trusting her friends _and_ fellow roomies.

She ashamed eyed the girl by her side. That… well, that wasn't anything like her. To use somebody and then throwing them away like you toss a useless crumpled paper in the trash.

Rachel sighed.

She would think this through later. Now she really had to use the bathroom. And drink water. Maybe drink a little coffee… _Oh!_ And she had to call her parents. Rachel smiled despite of herself.

She got a callback for her first Broadway audition. And it wasn't any audition… no. It was _Funny Girl_.

She quietly got off the bed, tiptoeing through her bedroom and towards the living room.

Rachel entered at the same time the front door was loudly closed by a grumpy latina. Santana and her bad morning mood. Rachel was more than used to it by now.

"I thought you liked her?" The brunette's statement was more a question than anything else.

"I always like them, Rachel, for one night." Santana muttered. "Now I'm gonna gets my beauty sleep decently. You should too, after the night you had." The girl smiled viciously.

"What do you know about my night?"

"Oh, dear, probably more than you do." Santana faked a sweet voice that awfully reminded her of Beatrice.

"Shut up." She mumbled.

"Is she still here?" Santana ignored her.

"Yes. Unlike you, I don't like to throw people out in the first sunshine of the day." Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Well, if you were more like me, you wouldn't have issues right now." Santana spat back.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She answered too fast. Damn.

"Yeah… You forget, darling, that I've known you way too long now." Santana said with that infuriating sweet voice.

"Drop the tone, will you?" Rachel stomped her foot. "Now, if you excuse me, I must rush to come in terms with my hydration… Oh, and with my bladder."

"Too much information, Berry. Too much." Santana waved her hand as the headed for her room, leaving the brunette alone.

When she was decent (she changed with extra caution to not wake the French girl, deeply asleep in her bed), she started to boil the water to make coffee.

Kurt appeared in the kitchen dragging his fluffy slippers on the floor and looking like he got hit by a truck.

"Oh Lord, I can't believe you're awake after the night you had. Really, I don't know how I slept at all after hearing you and Santana combined. At some point, I think I had nightmares with lesbians."

"Good morning, Kurt." Rachel smiled excessively as she didn't know how to reply her friend.

The boy mumbled something before he asked: "Why did you bring Beatrice home with you? Are you fond of torturing yourself?"

"Aren't you the one who had proclaimed your love for her last night?" She was trying this new thing called RAA: Redirect the Attack to the Attacker. She learned from Santana, but the charming name was hers. Obviously.

"Sweetie, I saw you panicking after she serenaded you." He explained with a little huff.

"Not you too!" Rachel complained, digging through the shelves above the kitchen sink. So _apparently _RRA needed to be improved. "We are out of coffee." She added happily.

"Yey." Kurt cheered sarcastically.

"I'm going to buy more!" She said with a smile spreading across her face.

"Rachel Barbra Berry. I see what you're doing here and I don't like it." The boy narrowed his eyes.

"Pleeease Kurt! I don't know what to say to her!" She all but begged.

"All right." The boy sighed dramatically. "But that's the first and the last time that I'm sending someone home for you. Also, you owe me one. And I'll collect it sometime, Rachel!" He pointed his finger at her.

"Thank you! I love you so much!" She exclaimed gratefully, kissing his cheek before making her way out of the apartment.

* * *

"So you just left?" Cassidy asked her, disbelieving, before starting to laugh loudly. "Girl, you've got balls!"

"Don't be so crude!" Rachel reprimanded her, her cheeks too red for her liking. "And yes, I left and I'm not proud of it. And I'm already suffering enough with my guilty conscious, there's no need of you to mock me."

"I am not mocking you." Cassy said, but her smile totally said she was. "Now be a lamb and tell me the good news you're holding up."

"How do you-?" Rachel incredulously started, before she was harshly interrupted.

"Just tell me. I'm versed well enough in your language to realize when you're omitting juicy gossip from me, so spill!"

"What is it with the world that suddenly everybody I know decided they can read me as if I'm an open book?! I have you all know that I'm a complex human been and not at all predictable!" The brunette actually managed to stomp her foot after her little outburst.

"Tell me, Rach… please." Cassidy told her gently, killing her annoyance with kindness.

Rachel couldn't help but smirk (after she huffed once more, alright? She was not that easy!). Cassidy sometimes was like a ginger heterosexual Santana, but one could be surprised.

"So I may or may not have received a callback for Funny Girl." So her lips just came into life all by themselves and this enormous smile spread across her face.

She was engulfed in a tight hug before she could say anything else.

"Rachel, this is awesome!" Cassidy exclaimed. "Fuck, this is great! You deserve it so much!"

"It's just a callback; I'll have to audition again." She said with a shy smile, trying not to get her hopes too high. There was – and she hated to admit it – a big chance that she would not make it. She didn't have any experience, after all…

"It's great anyway!" Cassy rolled her eyes as the bell above the door rang.

Rachel quickly checked who was coming in. She smiled once again when she recognized the costumer. Quinn walked without hesitation towards her usual table.

"Oh Gosh, you know the time she customarily comes, don't you?" Cassidy put her hand over her mouth, as if she suddenly realized something obvious.

"I-" Rachel stuttered.

"Go get her, tiger!" Cassidy interrupted.

"I'm not going to _get_ nobo- Hey, stop laughing!" Rachel hit her friend lightly on the arm before letting out a nervous giggle.

Then Quinn stared directly at her. The raised eyebrow and the annoyed look on her face sent a message that Rachel promptly picked on. _What's taking you so long? I'm waiting._

Rachel smiled and started to walk towards the client. She already figured it out by now that the blonde was a woman of habits. Besides always sitting at the same table, ordering the same thing, she also refused to be served by the other waitress. Cassidy told Rachel that Quinn always waited for her to return when she was on her break to order coffee. After that, Rachel simply started to take her break before Cassidy, so Quinn wouldn't have to wait anymore.

It was no big deal, really. She just liked to be the absolutely best in whatever activity she proposed herself to do. Waitressing was no different. So, if a costumer was not comfortable with anybody else being her waitress, she might as well make a little sacrifice to remediate this situation.

"Hello Quinn, may I take your order?" She asked with a big smile.

Quinn continued to stare at her with an analytic expression.

"I'll have a black coffee-"

"With two sugar lumps. Coming right up." She practically bounced to get the coffee. She couldn't help. She was _that _happy.

When she placed the beverage in the table, Quinn spoke up.

"Rachel Berry, you're looking immensely giggly today."

"I'm just having a good day, thank you." She replied, impressed that the other had noticed it at all.

"I see." Quinn said with an emotionless voice. But, for some reason, Rachel wasn't convinced.

"Do you want to know why?" She asked with a tentative smile.

"Well, if you feel the urge to share…" The blonde said looking not interested at all.

"If you do not wish to know, why did you bring the subject on?" Rachel wrinkled her nose, trying not to sound offended.

"Please, Rachel Berry, do tell me what made you so _bouncy_. I can barely hold on myself from curiosity." Quinn smirked.

Rachel huffed, now definitely offended.

"I'm going to check if we have the beer your _business partner_ likes to drink, if you excuse me…" She started to walk away.

"Actually…" The woman started softly. "he's not coming."

"Wait, what?!" She turned her head.

"Yes, apparently he had something unexpected he had to deal with."

Quinn didn't sound pleased. But, for the first time, she appeared willing to chit chat. So Rachel just gathered all her courage and decided she should as well just go for it.

"Why did you come here today, then?"

"Usually one comes to a coffee shop when one wants to drink coffee." The blonde said that as if she was explaining to a stupid child why fishes live under water.

"Yes, but _one_ can drink coffee anywhere, _one_ doesn't need to make all their way over here." Rachel replied mockingly and regretted almost immediately. Quinn may seem friendly at this time, but she observed the blonde long enough to know that she could be quite unpleasant when she was less than satisfied with something.

_Gosh, do you have any idea how you sound so massively stalker right now? Even for _your _standards. _

_I have no idea what you're talking about. _

_Oh, allow me to clarify then: _'observed the blonde long enough to know yada yada'. _You barely _talked _to her, how could you know anything about her?_

_I just do. That doesn't make me a stalker. That makes me skilled at evaluating people. _

_Yes, sure._

"I was around." Quinn waved her hand, dismissing the subject with an indifferent voice, much to Rachel's surprise. She really expected to be scolded for her sarcasm.

"I understand." She thought over her decision to 'just go for it' and decided to act professional again. "I'm right behind the counter if you want to order something else."

"You didn't tell me why you are immensely giggly today." Quinn ignored her.

Rachel smiled, understanding that was the best hint of a question she was going to get.

"I just… I have an audition for a musical I'm really looking forward to be a part of."

"Oh, do you sing?" Quinn asked, raising her eyebrow. A gesture that Rachel noticed it was like her signature mark.

_Stalker._

_I still have no idea what you're talking about. _

_You can be so infatuating when in denial._

_I'm not in denial. _

_Said everybody that ever was in denial. _

_Whatever._

"Yes, and as a matter of fact, I study at NYADA." She couldn't help her smug tone.

Quinn smiled, and Rachel realized it was the first time she saw the blonde fully smiling. She came to the conclusion that the woman should smile more. It was beautiful.

"That's impressive. Well, good luck. I'm sure you will be great."

The woman had never even heard her sing thus didn't know what she was capable of, and probably just said that because it was the polite thing to do. But for the first time since she got the callback, Rachel really believed she was going to _nail it._

* * *

_._

Hey guys!

First, it's amazing that people are actually reading this! hahaha

Thank you all for following and for your kind reviews.

I promise I wont keep you waiting too long for the next chapter, if you promise to give me a piece of your mind about it

How does that sound? ;)

HAHAHA


	4. You're going places, Rachel Berry

"How's been your day so far?"

Rachel almost dropped the cup of coffee she was holding. She was very fond of expressing her emotions in an appropriate way, but sure there was no need to trip in her own feet in surprise. A dramatic gasp would be less mortifying, thank you very much.

She raised her head to find a smug slash amused slash self-satisfied Quinn looking at her. Her cheeks were probably redder than the woman's manicured nails.

"It's been very well. I appreciate your concern, Quinn. And yours?" Rachel managed to reply, straightening her column in an attempt to regain some dignity.

"Fine." She drank a sip of her coffee slowly.

"Please, slow down. I need some time to absolve all those details." Rachel replied with a smile.

The blonde just smirked.

"I hope your audition went well."

Quinn always had her own way of interrogating her. None of them involved openly pronouncing the words. That's why Rachel was so baffled by the direct question. But from the last sentence she finally thought she was back to familiar ground, so she relaxed her posture a little bit.

"Actually… Yes, it went well. I guess."

"You_ guess_." Quinn raised one eyebrow.

"Yes, that's what I just said." She replied hastily, not understanding at all what was happening. The woman was acting like Rachel owned her more than that.

Like her old fellow glee club and friend Mercedes would say in a less appropriate way: _Not a snowball's chance in some hot place underground. _Rachel owned nothing to no one but her parents, teachers, close friends and future founders of her fan club.

"I see." The way the woman said those words made Rachel feel as if she was back in her first month in New York, when she was never – even though she tried a lot – good enough.

She did _not_ enjoy feeling like that.

"I didn't get a response yet, therefore there's no way I can tell you for sure how it went, Quinn. But thanks for asking. Now, if you excuse me, new costumers just walked in." She held her hands in fists and trotted towards the poor next clients.

The unsuspected couple did not see the hurricane in a shape of a short girl coming.

"I am Rachel Berry. May I take your order?" She breathed the words through her teeth, still annoyed.

The couple eyed each other alarmingly before the boy said something.

"We… don't know yet. Could you come back in five minutes, please?"

"Yes. You see, I _accept _that. It's a perfect _okay_ answer. You didn't have all the evidences that are required for you to provide a more complete response. Now, when you're ready, I'll be just behind the counter."

So she did just that, leaving the flabbergasted costumers behind.

She huffed, ignoring her inquisitive coworkers. She also raised her hand when Cassidy started to comment her previous behavior, which effectively shut the ginger up.

Five minutes later, when she finished taking the couple's order, Quinn stood up and walked directly towards her, not paying any attention to Arthur - the cashier - as she handed Rachel a ten dollar bill.

Rachel didn't expect the sudden wave of electricity that traveled throughout her body from the moment their fingers joined. The softness of the blonde's hand made her want to do crazy, crazy things… like _bite _it or… launch herself to _kiss_ her.

She did none, obviously.

It was the ring hand, and Rachel could actually feel the metal _burning_ her skin, but it was such a cliché to feel the attraction between their connected skins. And well, if one thing could be said about Rachel it was that she as a _sucker_ for clichés. She really was. So she didn't let go of the extended hand. Quinn also didn't show any sign of letting go as she spoke.

"I didn't mean to upset you." She said and Rachel noted it was not an apology. She didn't expect it to be, though. "I suppose we won't be seeing each other for a while now. I'll be… out of the country on business, and when I return I imagine you to be in a stage, not working _here_." Quinn looked more aristocratic than ever, elegantly accommodating her coat around her shoulders with her free hand. "You're going places, Rachel Berry. I can see that." So she smiled, finally releasing her hand as she turned around without another word, the perfect curls of her blonde hair floating in the air.

It took a whole minute for Rachel to remind to close her mouth.

"I'm offended." Cassidy declared bluntly. "What's wrong about working _here_? The tips are good!"

"Did that sound like a goodbye to you?" Rachel didn't want to believe that was really the last time she spoke to the blonde. And she was left with nothing… not a telephone number, not a last name and not even a "nice to meet you". Just with a tingling feeling in her hand. "I was so rude to her today! She was just being nice and interested in my life!_ Damn it!_"

"Did you just curse?" Cassidy looked at Rachel carefully. "Ok, Rach… Take deep breaths. Inhale and exhale slowly. Just follow my lead!" Cassy started to do exaggerated moves signalizing the way of the air inside the body.

"Don't be absurd, Cassy. I'm not panicking!" Rachel all but shouted.

"Are you sure? Your eyes are kinda crazy. Please, blink."

Rachel scoffed and took off her apron.

"I'm taking my break now. Please see that the couple over there gets their order." She eyed her friend with defiance, waiting for her to say something about it. But Cassidy was a smart girl, so she just threw her arms in the air in surrender and nodded.

* * *

_"What do you expect me to say? Chicks are nuts, Berry. I thought your gay experience was enough and I didn't need to say that to you when you bought a rainbow ticket to the ladylovin' express." _

"But Santana…"

_"Chicks are crazy. They always expect too much from you, and if they could they would follow you into your dreams. And I'm being literal here, not an emotional lovesick bird."_

"But…"

_"That's alls I have to say. I'm hanging up on you now. You better buy me pizza tonight for the amazing piece of advice I just gave you."_

So she hung up.

What possessed Rachel Berry to call Santana Lopez from all people, she didn't know. While Kurt was a more suited best friend, he wasn't a lesbian. _Clearly_. But her closest lesbian friend didn't have the patience to go through with Rachel's rants…. Or, how she liked to put it, doubts about the new-found facet of her sexuality.

Sighing, Rachel finally returned to the coffee shop.

* * *

She so knew it was bound to happen. Really… she had no idea why it took so long.

Rachel couldn't avoid someone who went to the same university that she did forever. Of course it didn't stop her from trying. She was, after all, a natural boundary-breaker. Or something equally as inspiring and less_ you-are-an-awful-person-Rachel-Berry_.

Beatrice corned her just after her class of Music History II.

"We should talk." The girl crossed the arms over her chest.

"Should we? See, taking the chance of looking a little hypocrite here, I do think there are things there are better left unsaid, and…"

"Rachel, come on." Beatrice looked really pissed, but also… tired.

She felt like she could drown in her own shame.

"Let me buy you a coffee."

Beatrice scoffed, but followed Rachel to the nearest Starbucks.

Sure, Rachel felt terrible for skipping class, but she was still a decent human being and could no longer avoid the girl. And _not_ just because she apparently didn't have any other choice.

So, as they sat with their beverage in hands, Rachel shifted uncomfortably on her chair, bracing herself for what was coming.

"What you did was not cool." Beatrice said after minutes of mortifying silence.

"You are right." Rachel said promptly.

"Please…" The French girl closed her eyes for a second. "Just let me finish."

"Sure. I'm sorry."

"Not the moment for apologies yet. Wait until I'm done."

"Yes… I'm so- Yes." She stuttered, her palms sweating. She _so_ was about to get her sorry ass kicked.

_We really should start working on your nervous moments. You can't use this vocabulary every time you are about to get lectured. _

_Shut up!_

_Really, you sound just liked your crude friends._

_Oh, shut the_ fuck_ up!_

"What you did was not cool." She repeated. "In addition, it was kind of humiliating listening to your friend try to make up excuses for your inconsiderate behavior that morning. And in those past few days that I tried to call you, text you and send inboxes on your facebook, I've caught myself thinking… I may not be perfect, but I _am _a nice person. And I did not deserve the bullshit you put on me…"

Beatrice's tone voice did not change for a second, but Rachel noticed that, after each word, her French accent became more and more accentuated. That, and the fact that the girl's cheeks looked like they were ready to explode were some concrete proofs that Rachel first underestimated the level of unpleasantness of Beatrice.

"Also, we are not strangers, Rachel. That was not a one night stand. We slept together before. Actually, we slept together _several tim_e_s_ before. I don't know what I did to get this treatment. Or what the _heck _happened. But I really hope you tell me. Because I deserve this much."

Rachel swallowed thickly, drying her hands on the hem of her skirt.

"I… I wish I could explain this to you without looking like a hormonal teenager boy." She began tentatively. "But all I have to say in my defense is that I… I freaked out."

She sighed.

"You are such, such a great person, Beatrice…"

_"_Oh_ damn!"_ Beatrice muttered. "And_ now_ I'm getting dumped."

"Hear me out, please…" Rachel said quickly. "You are a great person, beautiful, intelligent and so talented. But… when you serenaded me in the bar that evening I realized I'm not… Well, I'm not able to properly correspond to your feelings. I didn't even know you had feelings for me before that night. I was having the best time with you. But I'm not…"

"You are not in love." Beatrice completed.

"Yes." Rachel whispered before cleaning her throat. "But that's no excuse for the way I handled the situation. You are absolutely right. You didn't deserve it. I was awful. I shouldn't have ignored you afterwards either. I'm so, so sorry. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

Beatrice sighed.

"I forgive you. It's just… Well, it sucks." She laughed tensely.

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok, Rachel. I know what it is to freak out when you first sleep with a girl. But you did have a delay in that matter."

"Wait, what?!" Rachel's eyes popped out. "How do you-"

"Kurt mentioned in one of his many attempts of getting me out of your apartment without further embarrassing me."

"Ow." She could feel her cheeks burning. "I hope we can still be friends." She said eventually.

"I guess we can… for now." Beatrice smiled.

And Rachel tried to see it for the bright side.

* * *

In the moment she was out of the Starbucks, she made a phone call.

"I have you know Kurt, that I have two gay dads. I've been raised since I was a child to not alarm in case my sexuality was not entirely straight, and I also read about gay panic-"

_"Rachel, my dear… there is nothing wrong about suffering from gay panic. We all have been there."_

"I am not suffering from gay panic, Kurt! That was not the issue between Beatrice and me!"

_"Of course, sweetie. You do loathe relationships, and you absolutely detest public demonstrations of affection. Especially serenades. It's not at all the gay panic speaking." _

Rachel gasped.

"Kurt, I cannot believe you!"

_"Look, I'm not alone in this. Santana also agrees with me. So does Cassidy."_

"Since when do you speak with Cassidy?"

_"I did friend her on facebook after you told me so much about her. She turned out to be a sweetheart."_

"Cassy, a sweetheart?! Are we seriously referring to the same person here?! Wait, are you guys talking about me behind my back? That's awful!"

_"I would love to hear more about your jealous speech, Rach, but unlike you I'm still in class and I don't want to talk in the hallway much longer. Also, Santana asked me to remind you about her pizza. Please remember she doesn't like onions or we won't hear the end of it. See you tonight. Goodbye."_

Rachel scoffed at her phone, pretending it was all of her so-called friends.

Yes, return to class. Sure. Kurt so did not wish to madly text this aspiring writer he met on some stupid app. No longer talk in the hallway, _of course_ that was the real reason.

She scoffed again.

Going back to the problem in hands…

Gay panic was not the problem. Seriously. How all of her friends weren't able to see that she didn't know. But she understood. Kurt had been right.

Until that very moment, she loved relationships and grand demonstrations of love.

But after getting her heart beaten up so bad and so many times… she just wasn't the same old Rachel anymore. At least not deep down. She may seem and sound like her old persona sometimes, but things have changed a lot.

If she was to fall in love again, it would have to be something _larger-than-life_. Something worth the risk of getting hurt again. She wouldn't put herself in that situation for just anybody. It happened that the first person who fell in love with her was a girl. But it wasn't first come, first serve. And definitely _wasn't _gay panic.

She was still very much irritated as she returned to NYADA.

* * *

Her weekend turned out to be quite uneventful.

She couldn't help but scold at herself again for being so immature and impulsive that day in the coffee shop. Yes, she was thinking about Quinn. Again. It's just that… She felt so lonely in that very moment.

Beatrice was still kind of mad with her – and she totally had every right to be, Rachel gave her that. Kurt was working in a fancy cocktail for . Santana was auditioning for a national commercial – one that didn't involve private parts. And Cassidy was double shifting at the coffee shop to buy a trip package to Europe… or the autographed jacket that belonged to Bruno Mars on eBay. Not that she actually_ told_ her that. But Rachel may or may not have seen Cassy checking the bids compulsively on the phone.

So Sunday night, when she was already in her pajamas, she didn't expect to receive a call from the assistant director of _Funny Girl_.

The moment the known number shined in the display of her phone, she was positive that her heart was halfway out of her mouth.

She took two long breaths before picking up.

"Hello, Rachel Berry speaking…"

* * *

_So, I did plan on posting this sooner, but life happened and, well..._

_Hope you enjoyed it anyway!_

_You asked for longer chapters and I couldn't agree more. I'll make an effort to improve this in the future. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to know what you thought of this!_

_See you soon! _


	5. The Greatest Star

_So Sunday night, when she was already in her pajamas, she didn't expect to receive a call from the assistant director of Funny Girl._

_The moment the known number shined in the display of her phone, she was positive that her heart was halfway out of her mouth._

_She took two long breaths before picking up._

_"Hello, Rachel Berry speaking…"_

It was all a blur. She remembered lethargically hanging up the phone and falling onto the couch like a freaking potato sack before the news she just received sunk in. Then she screamed, and screamed, and jumped so fast off the couch that she almost fell flat on her face.

She immediately called the assistant director back - trembling fingers and all - and reassured him repeatedly that yes, she was very excited about getting the part, and she would give 110% of her on this. He just laughed, but she didn't find it in herself to care.

Her fingers started to move like it was separated from the rest of her body, and Rachel proceeded to call everybody she cared about to tell the astonishing news. Her parents, her roommates, her coworker Cassidy, her closest gleek friends. When she faced the keypad enthusiastically, ready to call Quinn, Rachel stopped out of sudden, taken aback for one moment. Of course she didn't have the woman's number. Of course.

She shook her head before sitting again. Fresh tears in the corners of her eyes and a beautiful smile that seemed permanently glued on her face.

She made it.

She made it.

_SHE MADE IT!_

There was many things she could have done and thought in that very moment. Like how she would love to rub it in the face of all the bullies she was forced to endure during high school. Like properly thank all the Broadway divas and inspirational icons she looked after throughout her life. Like just bust into a song that expressed all the happiness bubbling inside of her. She did none.

She just sat on the couch, concentrating in breathing in and out slowly, feeling her heartbeat hitting her rib cage over and over again. Suddenly, the dim moonlight coming through the window curtain was exponentially more beautiful. The air was so much more invigorating. She felt alive. She felt like she _belonged, _like she just found her way out of a gigantic maze, and herself in the process.

She didn't know how much time she stayed like that before the door was swung open and all her friends came in, laughing, screaming, spinning her around and handing her a cup of whatever beverage.

Kurt set up the karaoke, Santana congratulated her in a bunch of unknown Spanish words, Cassidy encouraged her to drink, just to make sure she wasn't damaged or anything like that. Some of her NYADA friends showed up, and she didn't even bother to ask who told them.

Her parents told her they would be there first time in the morning, Monday be damned.

She just smiled all night. And, _fuck_, perhaps her smile really was permanently glued on her face.

* * *

Her new rehearsal routine was pure and unadulterated _madness_.

The producers wanted to take advantage of the holidays at the end of the year to debut the play. And they were_ this close _to the freaking holidays.

She went from rehearsals straight to NYADA, and then back for more practice. Rachel obviously had to resign at the coffee shop, but now with Quinn gone (shut up!) she didn't care in the slightest.

Rachel didn't have much trouble decorating lyrics and lines; she'd known all of them since she was a child. But the choreography could be quite tricky. Also, she was receiving so much criticism regarding her acting that she felt a tad insecure sometimes. But then she remembered she was the_ (greatest hehe)_ star. All eyes would be focused on her, and she should be nothing but absolutely perfect.

She even manage to refrain (except this one little insignificant time when she stormed out after rehearsal ended for the day) all her diva attitude. Rachel was very proud of herself, thank you very much.

* * *

"Rachel, enough is enough! I understand you are about to be famous and rich, therefore don't have much time in hands, but you are not quite there yet! Do your own laundry once in the month, for heaven's sake!"

"Kurt, please! I'm so late! Jeremy has yet to memorize the entire choreography, and how will he do that without me?"

"Gee, I don't know, Rach. Perhaps with the choreographer's help?" Kurt snarled.

"I'll buy you a new Marc Jacobs coat! Pleeeease!"

Yes, very much proud of herself indeed.

The boy held his right hand over his chest and took a deep breath.

"I will not succumb to your unfair blackmail, Rachel Barbra Berry. I am not your maid nor will I continue to do all of your house chores. Do the dishes and do your laundry." Kurt marched out of the living room.

Rachel huffed before making her way out of the apartment… and bumping_ straight_ into Santana and Cassidy making out at her porch. "Straight" being the key word here.

"Cassidy, you don't like girls!" Rachel all but shouted.

"Racheeeel, fancy seeing you here." The girls untangled themselves and Cassidy giggly answered her.

"I live here!" Rachel carefully looked the two girls. "Oh my god! You're drunk! It's Thursday morning!"

"Stop being such a buzz killer, Berry. Now, if you excuse us, your friend here and I have some business we must attend to." Santana stumbled into the apartment, dragging the redhead along.

Rachel distinctly heard Santana singing "This head is on fireeee" in allusion to Alicia Keys "This girl is on fire" before the door was shut in her face.

_"What the…"_ Rachel muttered, still very much perplexed to move. It took her almost a minute before she finally left the front door of her apartment.

* * *

There were times in her life that she felt anxious. Nervous. Tense. Apprehensive. Even a little frightened. None, none of those times prepared her for what she was feeling in that moment. She was utterly_ terrified _as she and the rest of the cast held hands and listened to whatever encouraging speech the director was doing.

Or, in Rachel's case, pretending to listen to the encouraging speech. She was too busy reciting her own motivational mantra in her head.

_You are ready._

_You are a star._

_You won your first contest at the tender age of three months. _

_You can do this._

_It's time to go there and collect the spoils of a life time winning war to success._

_Fame._

_Glory._

_Eternity!_

Oh god, _I think I'm going to throw up!_

_This is _not_ part of the motivational mantra. Start over!_

_You are ready._

_You are a star…_

"Rachel, five minutes."

"Oh my GOD!" She murmured tremulously.

"It's going to be fine. You are prepared. We all are." Jeremy, the male lead, touched her forearm. "Also, didn't you say your family is here? All of your friends?"

"Yes." She answered with a little more confidence. "My fathers. My mother, can you believe this? I know, it's _crazy_. But she came. Also the whole New Directions, including Mr. Schuester." She smiled nervously.

Rachel could tell by the confusion in her colleague's face that he didn't understand why a mother coming to the daughter's debut in Broadway would be by any means crazy, but he just smiled back.

"And a big audience, that are not ready to be as amazed as you going to make them after your performance. Go get them all, Rachel. I'll be right there soon."

Rachel shook her head and inhaled deeply.

"Rachel, it's time!"

_"Yes, it is."_ She whispered before impersonating even the body cells of Fanny Brice and entering the stage to _get them all_.

* * *

And that was exactly what she did. She got them all! The audience was on their feet, hands together in a mind-blowing ovation.

Really, she was surprised she didn't faint right there from happiness and fulfillment.

She was dragged backstage where all the cast hugged, and cheered, and drank champagne. Back to the dressing-room with _her name_ on the door, she found a bunch of friends and her parents. The blur was back, and she was hugged by more arms than she could count, her tears clouding her view.

After a while, most of the New Directions went with her fathers to find a restaurant where they all could properly celebrate. Only Santana and Kurt were left with her when one of the producer's assistants brought her the fourth bouquet of flowers of the night. Yes, she found lovely the others from her parents and friends, but this was from someone unknown, and she clapped excitedly, jumping in place as Kurt laughed.

The huge bouquet was made of delicate pink roses and white calla lilies.

"Seriously, that's rampant. Maybe someone is proposing to you?" Santana mocked, but she was smiling with Rachel's joy.

She didn't even think about what to reply as she reached for the note.

_ "This was the most endearing performance I've seen in a while. I can't help but wanting to review it personally. _

_I would love if you joined me to diner at La Buca. Monday, 8 p.m._

_Quinn"_

Rachel stared at the paper with mouth agape, questioning herself if she had read the note correctly.

By the third time she realized that yes, she had read it right.

Quinn had seen the play! Quinn had sent her flowers! And had invited her to dinner! Because her performance was _endearing._

_Holy shit!_

"What the fuck are you drooling over, Rachel? Did a fan send you a nude photograph already?" Santana snatched the paper from her hands and smiled mischievously. "Rach… who is this Quinn girl?"

"She's… nobody, really. She was a regular client of the coffee shop, it's not what you're thinking… And she's not a _girl_, she's a woman. A beautiful one, I must add. She does have one of the most angelical faces I've ever seen…" Rachel babbled.

"Yeah… sure sounds like nobody." Santana's smile got even wider.

"You are going, right?!" Kurt grabbed the paper and read it too. "I always wanted to go at this place. It made for the fifth year in a row the _Where celebrities eat in NY_ list! And let's _not_ get started on how difficult it is to get reservations! Even on Monday. _Own_, Rachel, look! She chose a day she was sure you wouldn't have to work!"

"Guys! Stop it!" Rachel exclaimed. "I… I don't know, ok? What if…"

"Cut it out! This _girl_ is hot, rich, and wants to have dinner with you to kiss your ass all night. You are _so_ going. And if you give me more of this 'I don't know' shit, I'll push you into a cab myself when time comes." Santana rolled her eyes. "Now, are we going to get some fancy booze and toast in Rachel's name or what?"

* * *

Rachel stood in front of the restaurant trying to sink in the reality. Santana and Kurt didn't even have to force her to come. She _wanted _to. She had been excited and anxious _all week_. And now… well, now she pretty much froze.

_Rachel Berry, there's still time to change your mind! You can always turn around and…_

_Wait, are you seriously considering stood up a woman like Quinn? I hardly think that's acceptable!_

_But! You haven't seen her in weeks! Weeks! What if _she _stood up on _you_?!_

_She wouldn't! She invited you, for Barbra's sake! _

_That's right! But… what if this is some kind of mischievous plot to kidnap you and… and… murder you to feed you to famished catfishes… or rape you. _

_Ok, now you are not making any sense. And you _so_ would not care if she raped you. You would even like it! You would _want_ it! And therefore it would not be a rape, it would be a consensual sexual intercourse!_

_Yes, maybe I would wa- No! Seriously, what if she's a psychopath! A mafia gang leader! _

_That makes more sense. Oh Gosh! I didn't consider it!_

_You see!_

_Alright. But that requires you to be alone with her, and let's face it, what's the chance of_ that_ happening anytime soon?_

_…_

_…_

_What do you mean by that? _

_Nothing._

_Are you insinuating that Quinn wouldn't want to be alone with you?_

_Well…_

_She did invite you to dinner at a fancy restaurant. _

_Yes…_

_She did find your performance _endearing_._

_That's true…_

_I'm going in! _

_That's a true Rachel Berry speaking!_

_Yes. I'll show her you're more than worth of time alone. She's the one that is lucky to be alone with you!_

_But what if she _is_ a psychopath?_

_Shut up!_

The restaurant was charming. Full of candles, artisanal chandeliers and antique furnishings. The chairs were coated by deep red velvet, and the lighting was just _right_. Everything was so luxurious… She would have to thank Kurt later for making her buy the back strapped black dress she was wearing.

She walked towards the concierge.

"Hello, sir. Please, reservations in the name of Quinn…"

Her eyes went wide when she realized… she didn't know her last name! Then, and just _then_, the truth hit her. Her_ husband's_ last name.

_Red code! Abort mission! Turn around and leave now!_

_OH-MY-GOD! SHE'S MARRIED! HOW COULD YOU FORGET THIS?_

_Leave now! I repeat! Leave now! Why did you come in first place?_

_YOU CONVINCED ME TO COME IN, STUPID BRAIN!_

"Are you Miss Rachel Berry?" The man smiled sweetly at her. "Please, follow me. I'll take you to your table."

"I-I…" Rachel stuttered and almost tripped while following the man.

Quinn was seated in a private two person table at the bottom of the saloon. She was wearing a long salmon dress, her hair perfectly tied in a bun, like the first time she saw the woman. She was beautiful, radiant even. The blonde had always been elegant, but now, in her natural habitat, it seemed that all eyes were following her every movement.

She stood up as soon as she spotted Rachel, and the brunette was lost for a second. What should she do? Kiss her on the cheeks, hug her briefly? She never touched the blonde except that time when Quinn handed her the money at the coffee shop. God, how ridiculous could she be?!

Rachel chose the safe. She extended her hand for Quinn to shake. The blonde smiled and formally enveloped Rachel's hand with both of hers.

"Hello, Rachel. I'm glad you came." She said and Rachel's body was filled with the familiar feeling of electricity and warmth.

"Hello, Quinn."

* * *

**[~~]**

Hey guys, how are you?

Hope your Christmas or whatever is that you celebrate (or don't celebrate) was decent! Mine was great. Also full of family drama, but that was expected and, really, it would be weird if everything went smoothly. HAHAHAH.

Seriously.

I know, I know, there is near to no Quinn in this chapter, but it really is my favorite so far. And I promise it will be a Quinn overdose in the next chapter! We are so getting close to the Faberry explosion now HAHAHA

Anyway, I guess it is time to answer some of your reviews, right? :)

**LuBov** and** LoveLight22: **Thanks for sticking with me since the very beginning and reviewing in each and every one of the chapters! You guys are incredible.

**Arselbengt **and** VanishPoint**: Well, thank you. Writing in English has been such a great improvement exercise, I am just glad nobody caught big mistakes yet! AHAHAHA

**Midwinternight**: Reviewing in port really is weird, I am glad you reviewed anyway! We will know more about Quinn's husband soon enough, I promise. And hopefully we won't miss her for long, she will be back in the next chapter!

**alldarkandtwist**: Sure thing you are one of those bitches. That's part of the reason why I love you so much. HAHAHAHA

**priscilla20**: I am really working on making those chapters longer. It is a promise :)

**Guest who reviewed in the Chapter 4**: I don't really know how to answer you. HAHAA. Well, one thing I like to pay attention when I write fics is how to make them believable. That's why I am taking my time to build the proper background to this history. I don't agree that "Nothing is ever going on.", but of course that is your opinion and I respect that. Hopefully more things will be going on soon enough, especially (and I think that is what you mean) regarding the Faberry. :)

Aaaand…**Bia**: Thank you so much, as always, for your help. You are the best. Seriously :)

**[~~]**

But really, thanks to all of you who make my day by following and reviewing and this, I read and appreciate them all. :)

See you all next year! (Sorry, I couldn't resist).


	6. Quinn Fabray

_She stood up as soon as she spotted Rachel, and the brunette was lost for a second. What should she do? Kiss her on the cheeks, hug her briefly? She never touched the blonde except that time when Quinn handed her the money at the coffee shop. God, how ridiculous could she be?!_

_Rachel chose the safe. She extended her hand for Quinn to shake. The blonde smiled and formally enveloped Rachel's hand with both of hers._

_"Hello, Rachel. I'm glad you came." She said and Rachel's body was filled with the familiar feeling of electricity and warmth. _

_"Hello, Quinn." _

Rachel uncomfortably shifted in her chair, right in front of Quinn. She couldn't dismiss the tingling feeling in her stomach, and she just knew her cheeks were burning up. Suddenly, all thoughts vanished all together from her head, and all she could think about was how the blonde was looking so _magnificently beautiful_.

"Thank you." The corners of the woman's mouth turned into a discrete smile. "You look beautiful too. I love your dress."

_Oooh shoot, did you say that out loud?_

"They have an excellent wine selection here." Quinn said when she failed to provide an answer, still very embarrassed by letting her brain overpower her mouth.

"While I am not a wine specialist, I do enjoy a glass from time to time." She answered promptly, internally patting herself on the back for the job well done.

"Excellent. Would you mind if I suggested one?" The woman smiled and reached for the wine list, not waiting for Rachel's response.

"No, not at all." She whispered, wondering what Quinn would do if she said she minded, seeing how the woman was already calling the waiter to order.

When the man hurried to get them a bottle, the woman's eyes were back on hers.

"I apologize for my bluntness." The blond said politely. "I didn't even ask you yet… How are you, Rachel Berry? It's been a long time."

"I am very well, Quinn, thank you for asking. It's really been a long time. Hope everything went smoothly with your business trip?"

"It was a very productive trip indeed." The woman's eyes shone in an indefinite way, leaving Rachel with a thousand questions.

Before she could even consider asking her anything, the waiter was back. He opened the bottle and poured a little in Quinn's glass. She gracefully tasted the wine before waving her head slightly in approval. It was just when the woman was putting the glass down that Rachel noticed.

"Quinn, where's your ring?" She impetuously inquired, no second thoughts spared.

The blonde raised an eyebrow at her, looking surprise for just one second before the indifference came back. After the waiter left, Quinn delicately traced the base of her glass with her fingertips, staring intently at Rachel. Finally, when the brunette was almost apologizing for making such a personal question, she spoke.

"I'm divorced now. There's no reason why I should continue to wear my wedding ring."

"Oh… I'm sorry."

And, of course, that was a lie.

Quinn laughed and managed to seem bitter and amused at the same time.

"Please don't be, Rachel. It was about time already."

"I see. Well, congratulations?" She replied hesitantly.

Quinn giggled again, and Rachel almost sighed in relief when she realized there was only amusement in her laugh. It was so pleasant to hear, that if she didn't regulate the alcohol in her system, she would probably do something stupid, just to hear the sound again… like stand-up comedy or… or animals mimicry. She dropped the glass half-way to her mouth back to the table.

"Yes. I guess it is more fitting. But enough about me, I did invite you here to review your performance." Quinn said with a one sided smiled and Rachel refrained herself from clapping excitedly.

While she would love to hear more about the blonde, she couldn't help the joy that enveloped her every time someone would say something like "enough about me". They could go back to the woman later, now she just… well, she'd been dying to know what Quinn thought about her in stage.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Rachel asked.

"Yes, very much."

Maybe it was the way the blonde looked at her or the purr in her voice when she answered… Suddenly Rachel became very aware of the double meaning of her question. Funny thing is, she didn't even intend it to be this way.

"I see." She almost stuttered.

"I was honest when I said you were going places, but I didn't imagine the extension of your talent." Quinn continued. "What a voice you have, Rachel. And you captured the exact amount of drama and romanticism that Fanny requires. I do have some notes regarding the lighting and one or two of the supporting actors. But you were amazing."

"Well, thank you, Quinn. You are a sweetheart." She said, hiding her smile with the glass, sipping the wine slowly and not even caring that she had "notes".

"Oh, but I'm far from it." The blonde raised her eyebrow, her mouth curling into a smirk.

In that moment, Rachel didn't doubt.

_Oh my God, she is soooo a mafia gang leader. _

_I'm convinced._

_Perhaps you should discretely text Kurt so he could call you and, well, you know how this works. I am sure uncle Ezra wouldn't mind you using his coma as an excuse to leave. _

_You should stop watching "How I met your mother". This is hardly an original way out of a date._

_What do you suggest?_

_First I want to hear more about how _amazing_ I was. Then you could casually ask her what she does for a living. _

_No mafia gang leader tells that they are a mafia gang leader! _

"You really thought I was amazing?" She asked, effectively shutting her brain up.

"Yes, Rachel. In fact, I would like you to sing at the opening of my new gallery." Quinn smiled softly before continuing. "I work in the art business, and there's this new investment I made recently. Of course you would not be singing all night. It will be mostly ambient music, but I really think it would be great if you could perform a song or two. I'm willing to pay for your trouble, naturally."

_See, not a mafia gang leader!_

_Not the time to think about it! Too busy trying to sink in the fact that she wants you to sing on her gallery! _

_Amazing, right?!_

_Yesss, just like you._

_Ha, I saw what you did here._

"Quinn… No! " She said quickly.

"No?" The blonde raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well…"

"No! No, no, no! Wait!" Rachel smiled, shaking her hands in front of her face. "No, I mean, it's no trouble at all. I'll do it, of course, but for free. I am sure I'm going to enjoy myself." She smirked.

"Rachel…" Quinn purred. "I insist that you..."

"No." She interrupted. "I'll do it for free and that's final. Now, do you suggest any vegan dish?"

The blonde grinned before discretely calling the waiter and ordering for both of them.

"Art business. I would never think of that." Rachel said sincerely.

"What have you thought about me?" Quinn asked slowly, her fingertips playing with the glass again as she stared straight into Rachel's eyes.

"Not much." She bluntly lied. "I don't know… I guess… importation business?"

The blonde looked at her in a funny way, her lips pressed into a firm line as if she was trying to suppress a smile. Or maybe a curse.

"Rachel, my job is not illegal."

"Quinn! That's not at all what I meant!" Great. Now she was blushing in a _very_ bad way.

"My sideline business though… " The woman lowered her voice. "I am sorry, but this is not the right place to talk about this."

The brunette stared at her, mouth agape.

"You are joking." She said finally.

"Of course I am." Quinn giggled. "You are too intense, kid."

"I am not a kid." She answered offended.

The blonde looked at her thoughtfully, sipping her wine and then wetting her lips.

"Definitely you are not."

Rachel was ready to list all the reasons that proved she was not a child anymore, and didn't see that line coming. Could it be possible that _Quinn _was flirting with her?

"I…"

Luckily for her, the waiter arrived with their food.

She tried her pasta and couldn't help an approval moan.

"This is so good."

"I am relieved." Quinn smiled. "See, I've never tried the vegan dishes here. Fortunately I didn't invite you to a steak house."

Rachel giggled.

"I could always order a salad if that was the case."

"So you would meet me _anywhere_ I invited you to?" Quinn arched her eyebrow and the brunette started to think she might be imagining things. How come everything she said in that voice of hers sounded like a flirt?!

"Yes, you wrote me a very polite note." She picked the paper on her hand purse. "But do you care to explain how have you managed to make 'endearing' sound like a real big compliment, when it's actually a warm word, at best?"

"I put 'most' before it." Quinn didn't even look at the note before answering with a cynical smile on her lips.

"You are just… impossible." Rachel laughed.

The blonde stared at her for one moment before faintly shaking her head.

"I am sorry, Rachel Berry. I am a little lightheaded."

"You just had one glass of wine." She replied, confused.

"It is not because of the wine." Quinn said unhesitatingly.

Rachel's heart began to beat rapidly, and she just looked at those penetrating hazel eyes for more seconds than she cared to count. The blonde was positively flirting with her, and she just couldn't for the life of her think of a keen response.

So she just did what her body was telling her to do and reached for Quinn's hand. The electricity. She wondered when she would get used to it as their fingers entwined together slowly, hesitantly. They just stared at each other. The blonde smiled a sweet smile Rachel hadn't seen on her yet. And she just managed to blush. Yes, blush! Like a hormonal teenager. Although she wasn't finding it in herself to care in that moment.

Then her phone began to buzz loudly inside her purse, and she broke the contact, embarrassed. Quinn, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease, taking a bite from her food.

She took her phone to find three messages in her home whatsapp group.

_Santana: So, has she popped the question already?_

_Kurt: Satan, the woman is married. You pay no attention to Rachel's rants, do you? _

_Santana: I am not talking to you, Fairy boy. _

_Rachel: She is not married anymore. _

The brunette answered before turning off her phone with a smile.

"I am sorry for this."

"It's fine, Rachel."

They ate in silence for one moment.

"You really caught me out of guard with your invitation." She admitted. "I would never think you were in the audience. That reminds me to thank you for the bouquet. You have an exquisite taste, Quinn. The flowers were beautiful. "

"Well, Rachel Berry, we just kept bumping into each other, I just figured it would be nice to actually arranging a time." Then the blonde wiggled her nose.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed. "You did _not_ just quote _Bewitched_." Then she laughed. Hard.

"I believe that the exact words are 'Once upon a time, there was a typical American girl, who happened to bump into a typical red blooded American boy. And she bumped into him, and bumped into him.' So no, I did not just quote it. "

"I can't believe you know that line by heart." She replied, impressed.

"I do have an eidetic memory."

"Really?"

_Ok, that woman is just out of this world. Beautiful, art lover, funny (who would have imagine that, huh?!) and also freaking intelligent?_

_If you drool on this table I promise you will not see the daylight, Rachel Berry._

"No. I just happened to see the movie with Nicole Kidman in the plane when I was travelling." The blonde replied with a mocking smirk.

"Oh."

"I love the show, though." Quinn continued.

"Me too. But if the person I married asked me to change who I am, I would just dump them in sight."

"Those are powerful words, Rachel." The blonde said softly. "I wish love was simple like that."

The brunette stared at the blonde for a long time as she contemplated her words. Obviously the other one was talking about her failed marriage. Rachel started to think of herself as a hypocrite. There was a time she was ready to give it all up for love, wasn't it? But then… love was only to blossom over sacrifice? That idea was just… miserable.

"Love is not simple, but it is also not loss."

Quinn looked at her seriously for one moment.

"You are absolutely right."

Rachel smiled empathetically.

"Please, tell me more about you. I don't even know your last name." She asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

Quinn was pretty easy to talk to once you didn't get intimidate by her and, well, once she did not look at you like you were nothing. And yes, once she actually recognized your presence. Anyway, she was also very refined in her tastes (Rachel figured out that much), she enjoyed opera, Broadway and concerts. But she could be quite surprising. Like her favorite food was bacon. Just it. Bacon. And in terms of cinema, she liked the German expressionism, the true origin of the horror movies. Apparently she appreciated horror movies. A lot.

"I am so afraid of horror movies. I never watch them alone."

"Yes, Rachel, the whole point is to be afraid."

"Do you enjoy that?"

"It is overwhelming if you ask me. The thrill… Such an inspiration."

"I am sorry, I just don't see rationality in that explanation." She crossed her arms.

"Have you ever tried to watch a horror movie in mute?"

"I am thinking… no?!" She answered in a not intentional _duh_ voice.

Quinn narrowed her eyes.

"If you had, you would see that the effect of the movie would be so less intense. I actually laughed when I did this the last time. My point is: we know that what is in there is not real. We know that they are just some illusory histories with the sole purpose to make us frightened, and yet we get frightened. We get emotional about it. Isn't it precious? Isn't it what art is all about? Make us_ feel_ something? _Move_ us?" The blonde looked deeply into her eyes, and Rachel caught her breath for one second. It was just too intense. "Even if it's in a bloody nonsense way." Quinn smiled, breaking the tension.

"I suppose the real monsters are out of the screen, right?" Rachel chuckled.

"You just took the words out of my mouth." The woman smiled.

The dessert was over far too fast in Rachel's opinion. Then the bill came.

"Quinn, I don't think it's fair you pay it all."

"Yes, it is. I invited you, and you were kind enough to show up."

"I didn't want to say this, Quinn, but you are obligating me. I am a Broadway star now, I think a can handle paying what I consumed in a nice restaurant."

"You, Rachel Berry, loved saying it. I am capable to bet that you rehearsed this line in your head and waited for a suited time."

"That is preposterous, I did no such thing!" She exclaimed.

The blonde raised her eyebrow.

"Rachel, you're already going to sing for free, please allow me to take care of this bill. I did pick all the orders."

"That you did." She grumbled.

The blonde smirked before handing her credit card to the waiter and looking at him with a clear _hurry up, you maroon _face. The poor guy almost dropped the credit card machine.

When they left the restaurant, Rachel was deep in thought. How would they say goodbye? They should hug now, shouldn't they?

"Rachel, where do you live?" The blonde asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Where do you live?" The blonde shook the keys the valet had just handed her.

"Far from the upper east side." She laughed. "I'll just take a cab, Quinn. Don't worry."

"I am thinking… no?!" The blonde smirked and opened the passenger door of her freaking Mercedes-Benz.

"Quinn…"

The blonde just arched her eyebrow in an authoritarian posture. Rachel sighed and entered.

When the blonde took her place and pulled of, she gave the directions.

"You didn't need to trouble. I am sure you live nowhere near me."

"It is not trouble at all if it means to buy me a few more minutes in your company. Plus, it is my guarantee that you will get home safely. " The blonde answered.

"Careful, Quinn… You are starting to sound like you actually care." She replied playfully.

The blonde just smirked, her eyes never leaving the traffic.

When the blonde parked in front of her building, Rachel spoke up.

"So… this was very nice."

"_Nice_…" The blonde repeated slowly, her eyes narrowing in a dangerous way.

"Hey, I put 'very' before it!" She replied with an enormous grin on her face.

"Ok. I suppose that is fair." Quinn replied after a contemplative second.

She stared at the blonde for one second.

"I am sorry, but I just have to ask. Where did you go in that business trip?"

"See, I am not one to give up all of my secrets at the first date." Quinn smiled.

Rachel's heart skipped a beat.

"Was this our first date?"

The blonde unfastened her seatbelt and leaned in Rachel's direction. Quinn's face got incredibly close to hers. She could actually feel her breathing. She swallowed thickly as a shiver ran through her body in anticipation.

"I guess we will just have to wait and see." The blonde whispered, her mouth mere centimeters away from hers.

Then the door on her side was opened, and Quinn pulled away, smirking.

"I guess we will." She answered defiantly after she remembered how to articulate words.

"And… Rachel Berry?" Quinn called her when she was leaving the car.

"Yes?"

"It is just Quinn Fabray again."

* * *

Hello guys :D

Thank you so much for your reviews!

Hope I didn't make you wait too much for the Faberry date. HAHAH

P. Taylor, dear beta, thank you so much for your help in this chapter. Your ideas are so much appreciated! Couldn't write this without you!

But I admit I am feeling kind of insecure with it. I mean, it is a great deal and I hope I managed to do it ''likeable'' HAHAH

Let me know!

See you soon!


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